


Words left unspoken

by lucifersbff



Series: Vicbourne AU's [1]
Category: Vicbourne - Fandom, Victoria (TV)
Genre: F/M, Vicbourne, au soulmates, eventual vicbert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 21:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersbff/pseuds/lucifersbff
Summary: Lord M knows all about the soulmate myth, he knows the writing but he doesn't really know for sure who it belongs to, when he finds out, he must decide whats best. Happiness or the country





	

**Author's Note:**

> Soulmate Au- where you write on your skin and the same marks appear on the skin of your soulmate. Taken from some place on the internet that i've forgotten.  
> Also this was writing in the early hours of the morning whilst I was sleep deprived, so criticise away.

It was forbidden to speak about soulmates, given their social backgrounds. It was forbidden even to think about and he knew that, as he sat in his chair. The morning paper was perched on his folded leg. His arm slightly irritant. These feelings had come more recently in his later years.

At meetings he had found ink on his fingers, as though he had been writing. He would have remembered writing with an ink pot in the middle of the houses of common, yet he had no recollection of those times.

He moved his paper to the side, one cautious hand pausing at his sleeve, his bronze robe was pulled backwards as he stared at the blue ink that formed on his arm. A curly swirl sat on his forearm, slowly it formed into a beautiful flower. One he had seen many times before.

He sighed to himself as he looked at it. Today was an important meeting and he had yet to understand the strange ink patches on his arm. He knew it was the mark his soulmate was making but he was sure that his soulmate had been Lady Caroline. How he was wrong?

“Sir, the carriage is waiting outside” His butler bowed at the doorway. He snapped from his thoughts as he rolled down the sleeve, he was going to see the Queen today. A meeting he consider important but more likely than not was just the two riding out or standing in front of the late great Queen Elizabeth’s portrait at the palace.

\--

He rubbed at his sleeve in the carriage, the ink had disappeared earlier as he changed, he was sure it would not come back. It never did, one a day he thought to himself. He would find a drawing on his arm every day in the morning but never reoccurring throughout the day

He rolled his sleeve up, his arm adorned a small message. ‘ _One day we shall meet_ ’ he smiled at it. He rarely got messages, he was too busy to notice them most days. He had taken to carrying a small pot in his carriage, if he could receive random drawings then so could the other. He would use his left hand, his penmanship not as strong as with his right. He would reply.

‘ _And that day will be great’_ he finished. It looked like a mess on his smooth forearm. He would remove it once he arrived, it was forbidden to even respond to messages. No-one would know, no-one could know. He only ever had a long sleeve shirt on under a jacket.

He feared the day he met his soulmate, feared the way they would look at him, knowing full well it was him. A man circled in scandal and admired by few. He placed the quill on the seat beside him. The carriage came to a stop and he corrected his clothing.

\--

“Lord M” she exclaimed happily, she was bubbly as he entered the building. He noticed a spryness in her appearance, one he had not seen. He also noted the use of a jacket. She rarely wore a cardigan over her elegant dresses. “Come I must show you something but it is to be a secret. Mama can never know.”

He nodded, he was her prime minister. Anything shared between the two was in the strictest of confidences. He followed her as she skipped, a childlike skip that reminded him all the time of just how young she was.

She disappeared quickly into a room and he followed. The servant stationed outside said nothing as he closed the heavy wooden door. She turned to him, something in her eyes shone and he couldn’t help but gaze at her.

“May I ask what you wish to show me ma’am?” His voice stated, he sounded rough even to himself. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had that whiskey the night before. Or maybe he should have had a drink of coffee this morning when he woke.

“I was left alone this morning, whilst I did my duties. Answering the letters and signing. I couldn’t help but think about the old myth. About soulmates. The one mama said was forbidden but I wrote on my arm just a few minutes ago. Look” She paused removing her outer jacket. He could quite clearly see the drawings, ones that were similar to his own on his arm. His eyes glanced further down her arm, he could see it clearly. “He responded”.

His whole mind went blank as she placed the jacket back on and looked at him. He hoped, how he hoped that she could not tell the shock in him.

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” She quizzed, he had to answer. He had to force himself to make some sort of sound.

“Ah, yes. Caroline used to write on her arm when she was alone, I also knew what she would say” What a lie he had told, he never saw words on his arm written in Caroline’s unique writing. He had never even spoken to her about it.

He caught the dejected look in her eye, the unhappy gaze she cast to the shadowed corner. She turned to the window placing her arms in front of her.

“How I will be happy when I finally meet him Lord M” She smiled out the window. She didn’t know that she had met her soulmate, he wasn’t going to tell her. He didn’t want to, it was against the best interests for the country. He’d given up years ago on his own happiness and settled for keeping his country happy. His king and Queen happy.

“He will be lucky to have you ma’am” Lord M countered, his arm instantly went behind his back.

“I’m nervous, when you met Lady Caroline, how did you know you were soulmates?” She questioned him, she had turned back to him. His eyes never leaving her small frame.

He paused briefly before answering, how much longer could he lie to her? To see that small light in her eye fade; just a few days longer, he told himself. Prince Albert would arrive in England, a man of youth that he heard was destined to marry Victoria, and the prince just had to convince her.

“We didn’t know, ma’am. We loved each other regardless. She may or may never have been my soulmate but that did not mean I loved her no differently than I would love my soulmate” He answered, honesty in the small form he had spoken was to him the best policy. His lies would soon get too large even for him to handle, they always did.

“She was not your soulmate?” Victoria muttered.

“When I look back, I believe ma’am I know, that she and I were of separate worlds. She was ambitious, outrageous and wild. She was destined for a better man than I could be.” He commented, Victoria walked over to him, her hand resting on his jacket lapel.

“You were more than she could be destined for. What happened was wrong and she should never have left you” She informed him, she had told him this once before. At Brocket hall. He remembered the day fondly. He had told her to hold her heart intact. He should never have said it.

He used a hand to remove her, if anyone saw them like that then it would spark another scandal. He could handle it but he was thinking of Victoria at the time. She had lost her bouncy aura; he hated to see her so unhappy.

\--

He decided against dining at the palace that evening, instead he went back to his home and distanced himself from the Queen. He sat on the table with the letters, all his notes. It was a mess as he placed his hands on either side of his head. He could see the writing, the drawings. They were growing in numbers.

He had given up with concealing them an hour ago and so sat with his sleeves undone as was his waistcoat. He expected no visitors and he had told his butler to allow no-one to disturb him. He sighed deeply.

“Nothing is ever black and white” He muttered to himself. His eyes darting over the correspondence he had received from Victoria and his own scribbles. Everything would be easier if he had been born nearer Victoria’s age, or vice versa. If he wasn’t a prime minister and was a Prince.

He rubbed his eyes and reached for his tumbler. The whiskey had been drained three minutes ago and he had forgotten as he placed it back on the table. His eyes caught a black smudge on his arm. He could see the words printed clearly.

_I found you, lord m_

His eyes darted around the room, he blinked and the words were gone. He had imagined them, his eyes playing tricks worthy of the devil. He was surely going crazy, maybe Caroline had been the sane one in the relationship. Maybe he had always been mad.

He found it strange as he threw the glass at the wall, his temper getting the better of him for the first time in a long time. He had never known rage so strong as he thought of the bitter cruel fate he had been given. His soulmate a girl that was not yet twenty.

“Sir?” the butler called, he held a small dustpan in his hand. His gaze at the broken glass. “You have a visitor”

“I said no visitors” He growled in response looking at the pile of paper, why had he been given this life. If it were Peniston he wouldn’t have this problem. It should have been his brother, not him in this predicament.

The butler left with the glass in the pan and he was plunged into a silence again, he breathed in deeply calming his temper. He hadn’t a clue what to do, he felt like he should do something, should explain or perhaps he should stay silent, let nature take its due course.

He heard the door squeak open and he held his arm up.

“I said no visitors” He proclaimed standing up and looking around ready to give his butler a stern speech. He stopped mid turn spotting the young Queen. Her eyes looking at him with a sadness that hid a happiness.

“I am sorry. You were not at dinner and I thought…I wanted to see if you were ok” Victoria spoke swiftly, her eyes roaming over his appearance. He swung his arms behind his back and held them there. He could not be sure if she had seen them. Had seen her scrawls on his skin.

“You have wasted a trip ma’am. I am fine. I had an urgent matter to attend before dinner. It seemed to have taken up a lot more time than I wished.” He commented as he glanced around the room. The mess was unbearable even to his eyes. He looked down. “I am sorry about the mess. I was not expecting visitors”

“Evidently” She retorted. He laughed, they’d had this conversation, or at least a version of it, before. At the time, he had an inkling; a small idea who the drawings belonged to. He was never sure but part of him knew. He had hoped he was wrong. Hoped it was some middle aged Whig widow, who bumped into him one day.

“Please sit, I’ll ask for some tea” He remarked holding his clean arm out to the chair. She followed the arm and perched on his chair. His dressing gown slung over the back.

“Lord M. Do you ever think that you could be sharing the same room with your soulmate?” She inquired, he paused as he walked to the door. His heart lurched in his chest. Tomorrow he would go to Brocket Hall, he would stay there for a few days. He wouldn’t tell anyone, he would just go there to clear his head.

“Never ma’am” He replied. Lies. He was a politician by nature, he could lie, he could charm and he could run from his happiness. “The thought has never crossed my mind. Why may I ask, ma’am, are you so fascinated in soulmates? It is but a myth”

She said nothing as he kept his back to her. He was desperately attempting to clean his desk, anything to keep his mind off her. She was in the room, he barely noticed her reach to his small table beside the chair. Didn’t see her pick out the quill from the ink pot.

He left it there, a habit he had from his childhood. He was always doing work and when he was tired of the uncomfortable stool by his desk he would sit in his comfortable arm chair and use a book to lean on as he answered letters. More often than not he would sit there and answer Victoria’s letters.

Not now he thought as he felt the irritation on his left cheek. He glanced over his right shoulder, he could see Victoria drawing a single line on her left cheek. He cursed silently.

“What are you doing ma’am?” He questioned, looking back at the desk in front of him. His arms placed either side, holding him up.

“I was just curious. Lord M, please turn around” She said calmly. He refused, this was not how things were going. He did not have to reveal anything, she was in his house. He did not have to turn around. She was the queen, he was her loyal subject. “Lord Melbourne, as your queen. I order you to turn around at once.”

He turned his face looking left, hiding the cheek. He could see his reflection on the window, the candle light illuminated a scarce amount of the room but enough for him to see the line. A thick black line that could not be hidden, could not be blamed on an earlier incident with his ink.

She stood before him, in the short time he was distracted. Her hand reaching to his face, he was more than a foot taller than her but she had reached onto her tip toes in order to turn his head. He allowed her, her eyes visibly widening as she saw the line. Her hand going to her left cheek feeling the wet ink.

“I knew it” she breathed out. He sighed, it was almost inaudible.

“Ma’am, it would be best to forget this” he began before she interrupted him.

“Why ever would I want to do that?” She barked, he blinked.

“It would be in your best interests to marry Prince Albert. He would be a much favoured suitor. If you were to follow through with the myth then your crown would not be favoured by the people” he stated forgetting his own feelings as he spoke.

She looked hurt and all he wanted to do was embrace her and say to hell with society, to hell with the British public. Yet he could not, his duty meant more than his happiness.

“I don’t care, can I not be happy. Do I not get a say in this matter?” she questioned. He looked into her blue eyes, he could see the emotion, and he hoped it was not reflected in his own eyes. It was for the best he told himself as he looked at her.

“Ma’am” he began

“No lord M, all my life I have been denied what makes me happy. I have been raised to wear a crown, to marry a man I do not love. I used to love it when mama would tell me stories about soulmates. I promised myself to find mine. My reign would be a merciful, and great reign with the one I loved beside me. Why can I not have that?” She cried. The tears, oh how he wanted to stop them, wipe them away instead he moved back, he gathered as much distance as he could from her.

“Because ma’am, you are young, I am not. I do not share your feelings.” He said, his own heart breaking as he stared behind her. Not at her but behind her.

“Lord M” she attempted but he stood firm. “I see”

She left without a second thought.

\--

He stood with the sword of state in front of him, like he had at the coronation, only this was not the coronation. This was a wedding, one that tore him apart from the inside. He watched as they exchanged their vows, gazed at each other and eventually shared a kiss that he wished for.

His Windsor suit was his favourite, one of the queen’s favourites on him. He wore it for the occasion. He could have worn something different, his best suit. She wrote on her arm little since the engagement. Anything she did say, Lord M caught himself staring intently at.

After the wedding, he stood beside Emma. Oh Emma, a woman who knew what he was going through. Who could sympathise without being in the same situation. Who had at first yelled at him for being so stupid, when he has told her?

A drink too many and he had spilled the meeting, he had broken the confidence he shared with the Queen, he would no longer share the confidence. He was no longer needed and his heart ached at the very knowledge, if he had only said what he wanted then he would not be in this situation. He would be dancing with Victoria and not watching from the shadows.

He’d been called by a servant to meet Victoria, he knew what lied ahead. She spoke but no words entered his mind. She was radiant, the candle light adding to her grace as she stood as dignified as when they first met.

“May I kiss the bride?” He found himself asking, he expected a no but instead she nodded. He stepped forward, anticipation bouncing around him like electricity. He placed a soft kiss to her cheek. He wished for more, longed for more as he stepped back.

When she picked up his hands and held them like he had at Brocket Hall all those years ago, he felt his heart shatter. He thought his heart could not break further than it had.

“Goodbye Lord M” she uttered, the phrase hitting him like a brick wall. He lifted his head and inhaled deeply. The tears that threatened to escape being stopped.

“Goodbye ma’am” He remarked. No he thought, you should fight for her. She is your soulmate. She loves you. He internally shouted, and yet he watched her walk off. Only until she was almost gone did he too walk off. The steps feeling larger than before. He paused again at the top. His eyes finding Victoria’s retreating form, she was running. She was happy without him.

\--

She ran, she didn’t want him to see the tears. It broke her heart too. How she wished for him to beg her, to tell her he loved her. Shared her affections. He had let it happen. She wanted him to fight for her but instead he had said goodbye. Let the marriage go ahead with only sarcastic comments in protest. She loved him and she still did.

\--

Years had passed and he sat, a tired old man with barely enough energy to move. He thought of Victoria as he waited patiently. He was on his death bed, almost at deaths’ door. He could feel it and all he could think about was seeing her. He had after the wedding escaped to Brocket Hall. Governed for as long as he could there. He had gone into mourning. Just like he had with Caroline, only this was worse. He could had done something about Victoria whereas he couldn’t with Caroline. He yearned to see Victoria again. He felt something in him protest the thought.

He could not let her see him like this. His pale complexion, his handsome face masked behind a ugly visage of death.

“The quill” he said between breaths. He feebly pointed at the desk. His butler the only one in the room. The only one to witness his death. Lord M had no children, not after Augustus, no he couldn’t bare another child, couldn’t find another woman to love.

The butler passed him the quill, the nib covered in a fine layer of ink. He placed it on his skin and as lightly as he could he marked himself.  He let the words form as it dragged down his arm.

He had taken his final breath, he could no longer move, no air filled his lungs, No noise was made as he left the physical world.

\--

Victoria woke panting, Albert was not beside her, she could hear him fencing outside. He fenced nearer the palace these days, as though he couldn’t be bothered to practice further afield. She felt an emptiness inside her as she looked around the room.

The door opened wide, Lehzen. She had missed Lehzen, the woman ran the household but was no longer needed to wait of Victoria’s hand and foot. Although today she opened the door. Stood looking at Victoria’s appearance.

“Your majesty, I have some bad news” She said in an emotion stricken voice. Victoria looked at her, tears building as she glanced at her left arm.

_I did love you ma’a-_

A black ink smudge running down her arm. Her heart broke as she looked at Lehzen.

“I am afraid at twelve minutes past four this morning. Lord William Melbourne took his last breath” Lehzen commented rushing to Victoria’s side. It felt like a dagger to the heart as Victoria broke into sobs. How had she let him slip from her grasp? How had he let her go?

Two questions that remained unanswered as she cried.

(FINISHED)


End file.
